Bowled over by my striking shoes

MANY years ago, a work colleague suggested we all get together for a night out. Someone said that tenpin bowling would be fun and it was all arranged. Now I have to say that I could count the number of times on one hand I’ve been bowling. When I got to the bowling alley I had to swap my shoes for some garish red and white bowling pumps. Naturally, some of my colleagues wanted to turn this social event into a bit of a competition. To my surprise, some were very good at bowling. Others, however, were not so good. I include myself in the latter category. In fact, I was probably in the absolutely terrible category, as my bowling ball spent most of its time in the gully and rarely troubled the pins. Despite my poor performance, I enjoyed the evening. We had some food and a lot of fun. In fact, I think my bowling provided a few laughs. At the end of the bowling session, I left for home. I lived about half an hour away and was driving along, listening to the radio. I was almost home when I stopped at traffic lights, glanced down and — to my horror — realised I was still wearing the garish red and white pumps! I had to drive all the way back to the bowling alley. I was really hoping none of my colleagues were still there to witness my embarrassment. Fortunately, the coast was clear. I casually handed over the bowling pumps in exchange for my shoes. I said nothing about what had happened, but noticed the lad behind the counter spraying the inside of the pumps liberally with a shoe freshener. Well, I guess they deserved it after journeying home with me!

Don Townshend, Chelmsford, Essex.